


So We Drove on Toward Death

by ergoeggo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, I named HRE Otto in this, It's not really a crossover, M/M, Regret, Revenge, Vampire AU, Vampire Diaries au, and he's quite unlike himself, and let's face it, but bear with me I needed a visual resemblance for Germany, but yeah the story is HEAVILY inspired by, you came here for spamano, you didn't come here for that anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ergoeggo/pseuds/ergoeggo
Summary: Just to spite his little brother, and maybe to make his life a little more miserable, Lovino returns to his home town of old. Feliciano tries his best to blend in with the humans, and Lovino tries his best to ruin it for him. He hasn't cared about much anything for the past 160 years, but a danger he thought was extinguished has returned and looms in the shadows, threatening to destroy every last little thing he holds dear. Even if that thing is a mere human.
Relationships: Austria/Prussia (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Holy Roman Empire/North Italy (Hetalia), Hungary/Prussia (Hetalia), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, South Italy/Spain (Hetalia), in the past - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	1. New Blood

_ He looks so much like him. His face, his presence, even his voice… it cannot be a coincidence. And yet, I don’t have it in me to fight the urge to see him. Be around him.  _

_ I knew I shouldn’t have come back. I knew the risk. But I have to know him.  _

Ugh. What a bunch of bullshit. 

Lovino threw his brother’s diary in his lap and sighed out loud out of frustration. When his brother had returned to their old home town, he’d fancied it a fun game to follow him there. Taunt him, tease him, and ruin whatever plan he had coming. But this was just too damn boring. He’d gone here for a boy? Apparently the spitting image of his old lover, Otto, but what did that matter? Otto was long gone and dead, and thank fuck for that. Not a day went by when Lovino didn’t muse himself with the thought of Otto burning hot in the fires of hell. If vampires even went to hell. He honestly wasn’t sure if even Satan would welcome them with open arms after all they’d done. 

Footsteps alerted him that his brother was heading his way, but he made no rush out of exiting the room. What was he gonna do anyway? Cry at him to leave? 

“You’ve read my diary?” Feliciano asked accusingly, clearly annoyed with him, and snatched the diary out of his lap. “Low blow, even for you.”

“Speak for yourself, lover boy.”

“Excuse me?”

“You really came back here for a boy? And a boy that looks like Otto, no less. Geez, I sure hope he doesn’t share his nose. I always said it made him look like a potato.”

“Don’t meddle in my private business,” Feliciano growled at him in a rare display of anger. 

“I’ll meddle wherever I wanna meddle,” Lovino snarled back at him. In a flash, he’d gone from his laid back position in the chair to standing on the floor, ready to pounce. His little brother viewed him with narrowed eyes for a moment, sizing up his chances, before standing back, turning to tuck away his journal into the bookshelf. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled. “Just try not to cause so much trouble, okay?”

“Thought so,” Lovino huffed, only a little bit disappointed his brother had chosen to stand down. It’s not like he stood a chance against him anyways, not with a diet made up of animals. A diet for weaklings. 

He left the room, bored of tantalizing his brother, and instead opted to go outside. His great-great-whatever-nephew Roma wasn’t home, so he couldn’t even amuse himself in frightening him. Not that much frightened old Roma these days, anyways. He was a tough one, even for a human. He still owned this house, too, which Lovino did admit was quite handy when you didn’t want unwanted vampires to cross your threshold. 

In no time had Lovino made his way from their old house to the town center. Running that fast was fun, but it exhausted way too much energy. He should have to get a car, he decided and steered his steps toward the place in town that he remembered sold old vintage sports cars. Even if he wouldn’t let his brother know, he too agreed that it may be dumb to eat up half the population of their hometown just to power himself up. Saving energy by getting a car to move about in would be far more efficient and discrete. And also pretty damn cool. 

Normally, when he was out in about in some capital city of whatever country tickled his fancy for the moment, he’d feed on a human each week. He’d find some asshole down on their luck that nobody would miss, drain them dry, cover his tracks, and move on. But in smaller towns like this one he’d have to be more discrete. If people started going missing, it would most definitely lead to headlines, so he’d have to avoid killing his victims. By now, of course he possessed the willpower and strength to restrain himself from killing his victims, but that didn’t mean he used it very often. But now, he realized with slight annoyance, he would have to keep his victims alive and silence them through compulsion. That could work, he supposed. Also, he would probably just get bored of messing with Feli soon and be on his merry way to some bigger place where no rules applied to him anymore. 

Half an hour later, he left the car shop with an emerald green 1966 Lamborghini Miura. He figured he had to honour his Italian roots somehow. Cruising around town, he was kind of disappointed to find that absolutely nothing seemed to have changed since he was last here. 2010 could just have well have been 1987. Last time he had been here, Roma had been a young man, in his early twenties, and a little less bold and knowledgeable as he had turned out to be now. Lovino had to admit - there was some part of him that kind of admired Roma. He had known about them since his teens, and had adamantly - if only a little reluctantly - kept their secret for years. His only request was that they don’t kill any locals. Feliciano had of course followed along like a good little boy. Lovino… maybe not so much. At least he hadn’t killed anybody Roma actually cared about, so what was the big deal? And so far, nobody had died on this visit. Either way, Feliciano had been stronger back then, having only recently adhered to an animal-only diet. Lovino was sure that Feli thought he had actually bested him and scared him off back then, but the truth was simply that Lovino didn’t care enough to engage in an altercation over a human. As far as he was concerned, he’d left on his own volition, and never thought he’d be back in Roma’s lifetime. But here he was, for reasons he didn’t even understand himself. Truth be told, he rarely bothered with anything. He hadn’t cared enough about anything really for the past 160 years. 

His intuition told him that Feliciano would eventually end up at the Grill, the local watering hole for this tired town’s population of idiots. He pulled the car over, locked it, and strode into the pub. Thank god for public buildings, right? No invitation required. He saw some familiar faces, but none would know him well enough to recognize him. When he had last been here, he hadn’t been trying to blend, so the only people that did see him were his victims and they were not very likely to talk. He had to admit, it was actually quite refreshing trying to blend and act human. For a long time, he had just truly lived like the creature of the night that he was, with no regard for human life, no conformity to human society. Not a care in the world. But here he was, taking a seat at a bar stool in a pub half full with the lazy post-lunch guests, pretending to be one of them with ease. He resisted the urge to chuckle to themselves. To humans, he looked pretty much like them, but if they truly saw him for what he was, they’d know what a deadly predator he was. Sometimes it was convenient to still look like them. At least when the fangs were tucked away. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” 

The bartender called his attention, and he broke out of his daydream thoughts to reply. His breath hitched in his throat, and he felt a sudden incapability to reply. Something about the bartender had caught him off-guard, and he was stunned into silence. How was a human this…  _ beautiful _ ? 

“Wait, let me guess,” the bartender said, a quirky smile playing on his lips, a slightly bushy eyebrow raised playfully. “Whisky. Smoky and peated. Neat. Am I close?”

“Right on the spot,” Lovino mumbled. The bartender poured him the drink, with unexpected ease. Humans usually just appeared so clumsy to him, but this one was… different. 

“There you go.” The bartender placed the drink before him with another smile, and Lovino had a hard time to tear his gaze from his emerald eyes. He threw the drink back in whole and placed it down again, motioning for a refill. Those emerald eyes fixed themselves on him again, narrowed by curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You new to town? Or just passing through?”

“Just moved back.”

“Back? I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours in school,” the bartender said, and winked. Lovino cursed inwardly and quickly fabricated the lie. 

“No, I mean, my family comes from here. I grew up elsewhere. But as it is, my brother and I just inherited the family manor. Old, musty building - I know right? But hey, it’s our heritage, I guess. He wanted to go to school here, so we… moved back.”

The lie rolled off his tongue with ease - he didn’t even need to use compulsion for it to stick. The bartender shrugged and poured himself a shot of whisky. “Well, welcome ‘back’ then. I’m Antonio.”

“Lovino,” he replied, toasting his own glass with the bartender’s before throwing the rest of the contents back. “Thanks.”

By now, more customers had begun filing into the Grill, which demanded Antonio’s attention, which was probably for the best. Lovino, sullen and still a little confused over what this human had stirred in him, stood up to leave. He couldn’t bear another second here. He could always just run into Feliciano at home later. 

“What are you doing here, Lovi?”

Speak of the devil. 

“Just leaving, little brother,” Lovino sneered. “What are you doing here? You’re not old enough to drink.”

“Oh please,” Feliciano rolled his eyes. “No, actually, I’m here for you. Making sure you don’t get us both into trouble.”

“Oh no need to worry, mister. I’ve already tightened up our cover story. Hope you’re ready for high school, again.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. What else would a 160 year old teenager do around here?” Feliciano said hollowly. 

“Well then you don’t need to worry about me,” Lovino growled in a low voice. “In fact, just leave me alone.”

“Hey, you came to seek out me,” Feliciano pointed out. “Who’s really lonely, huh? I was doing fine without you.”

Lovino ignored him as he pushed past people, heading for the exit. His rage burned in him, a hot fury threatening to explode. He got into his car and drove far, far, out of town. Probably not far enough, but he doubted anybody would miss the hikers that unfortunately crossed his path. 

There was a growing hollowness in him that screamed at him, screamed to be extinguished. No matter how much he consumed, no matter how much of his rage he took out on the environment around him, it did nothing to ease his mind. Emerald eyes flashed in his mind, and he was once again reminded of how much he had hated F. Scott Fitzgerald. Should’ve killed him before he had a chance to write that damn book. Damn it all to hell. Now he had his own flashing green light to worry about. 


	2. Blood isn't thicker than water

Blood. We need it to survive. We need it to thrive. It’s an unfortunate side-effect of eternal life to some, and to others a gift that keeps on giving. Lovino wasn’t sure how he felt about it, to be quite frank, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to live without it. He wasn’t like his brother, who had chosen the path of non-violence. 

Feliciano survived on mainly animal blood these days, and only ever drank human blood from stolen bags off of the donation center. Even then, he didn’t do it very often. He didn’t want to acquire too much of a taste for it again, he said. Lovino thought his brother's temperance was a load of crap. He acted like some saint for choosing not to kill people, when the real reason was far more sinister than that. It’s not like Lovino enjoyed killing people, no. But feeding off of humans was a necessity that he couldn’t imagine relinquishing from his existence. Hell, he had no desire to do so. Surviving on animal blood was just that, surviving. It would be like a human surviving on protein shakes instead of real food. It’ll keep her alive, but it won’t make her strong. It won’t make her thrive. 

When Lovino decided to blend, he decided he wouldn’t kill anybody during his stay at home. Day one, and he had failed. Really, it had been a dumb experiment to come home and pretend he was someone he was not just to taunt his little brother, but something compelled him to stay after all.  _ Someone  _ compelled him to stay. 

Antonio, the lovable bartender at the Grill, the local pub, had taken Lovino by surprise with how easily he had nestled himself into his mind. He was now begrudgingly smitten, and spent large portions of his days just watching him. Yeah, sure, it was a little creepy, he was aware, thank you very much. But he was just keeping an eye on him, making sure he was alright. Making sure no other monsters got to him before Lovino.

The other parts of his days were of course used up being a pain to his little brother’s existence. After all, it was his dumb choices that had doomed them to eternity like this, deadlocked in a fight that none of them could win. Well, Lovino would make the argument that he had the definitive upper hand these days due to his diet, but Feliciano thought it arguable. Thinking about his brother disturbed the demons inside him once more and lit the flames of fury. He hated how conflicted it always made him feel. It would be easier if he could just hate his brother enough to kill him, and be done with it. But the real truth behind his hate was that he had once loved him, cared for him, depended on him. He was his little brother and he had once meant everything in the world to him. He supposed he still did, just differently. It was twisted now, darker. Now Lovino’s entire existence was filled with one singular goal - make Feliciano’s eternal existence just a little bit worse every year. 

Of course, he didn’t  _ actually  _ spend every single year dedicating his actions towards this goal. He often spent whole decades avoiding him so that he could at least pretend to be rid of the deep hurt and anger that his brother’s mere existence spurred in him. Then, every so often, he’d check in to make sure his brother wasn’t living too tolerable of a life. 

But then now, of course, his mind had been a little occupied as of late with something other than eternal revenge. He hadn’t gone back in to the Grill again to see Antonio after that first encounter (no he wasn’t scared - he was a  _ vampire  _ for fuck’s sake, he didn’t get scared), but he had kept a watchful eye on him for the past week or so. Truth be told, he hadn’t been pestering Feliciano even nearly enough lately either. Time to change that. 

He rolled up to the high school, double parking his car like  _ that  _ asshole. Hey, he had a nice car, and was in no mood to compel himself to get a new one if this one got totalled. Hm, where to go first? He stepped into the building and looked at the signs hanging from the ceiling pointing in the different directions one could take from here.  _ Administration _ . Perfect. 

“Good day, how are you doing, Mrs…” he threw a glance at the plaque in front of the woman who was sitting at the desk. “Darby. My name is Lovino Vargas.” 

He extended a hand to Mrs Darby who took it without hesitation, a nervous smile playing on her lips. He knew he was charming. Especially to middle aged ladies. “Good day to you, Mr Vargas, how can I help you?”

“Well you see, my brother recently started here - Feliciano Vargas - and I am beside myself with worry on how he’s doing in school. You know, he was so nervous about the move, and - well, he has a bit of a nervous disposition, anyway - and I am  _ anxious  _ to see if he’s fitting in here.”

Mrs Darby smiled reassuringly at him and pulled out his brother’s file while they spoke. “Well, of course it’s too soon to have any test scores available, but so far he has perfect attendance, and I’ve had no complaints filed from teachers. Seems like a model student, to me, really.”

“Oh joy, that really makes me happy,” Lovino mused, leaning a little closer over the desk, making direct eye contact with Mrs Darby’s watery blue eyes. “But who don’t you look a little closer? I’m sure you’ll find that he’s been missing school this entire last week. Actually, make that the whole last month. Perhaps you should even give him detention. Make it a good one too, not just sitting around. Make him write lines or some shit. Like  _ I’m Feliciano and I’m a vamp _ -” 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Feliciano cut him off mid-sentence, and as Lovino broke off the compulsion mid-way, Mrs Darby looked a little lost and confused. Feliciano stepped up to her, kneeled down to get to eye level and focused his gaze. “Forget what he said. Forget he was here. Go get yourself a cup of coffee.”

“Hmm, I think I might go get myself a cup of coffee,” Mrs Darby mumbled and left her seat in a daze, leaving the brothers behind. Lovino still had a smug smile on his face, whereas Feliciano just looked uncharacteristically harsh and angry. Lovino remembered a time when the roles were reversed. 

“You got lucky, there,” Lovino remarked. “I’m better at compulsion than you. Know why? I feed on things other than squirrels.”

Feliciano didn’t even grace him with a response, and just shoved his file back into the filing cabinet.

“Oh you’re no fun,” Lovino complained and pushed himself out of the chair, only to find himself being pushed back down by Feliciano. He wasn’t quite as strong as him, but when caught by surprise he could still clearly take him down. 

“Stop ruining everything, will you? I’m just trying to live here.”

“Oh, sorry to tell you, but that train left, like, over a century ago.”

“Just leave me alone, Lovino.”

Lovino stood up again, facing his brother, this time without being pushed back down again. He brought his face close to his brother’s, his voice a low growl. “Not until you suffer for what you did.”

“I didn’t do this. The person who did is long gone. You saw to that. Move. On.”

  
Before Lovino had a chance to reply, Feliciano had disappeared out of the room. Damn, he was still fast as hell. Enraged and annoyed, Lovino left the Administration. He was headed for the exit when a sight he never in a thousand years would think to see appeared before him. It stopped him dead in his tracks, and he stared down the corridor, unable to ascertain if what he saw was real. It was his brother, with… Otto. Or, was it? He sure looked like Otto. No, he didn’t look  _ like  _ Otto. He was the exact copy of him, the spitting image of that German asshole. Even had the same damn nose that Lovino had always berated him for. Even from this far away, though, Lovino could sense that he was human. His blood pumped through him deliciously, and his heartbeats quickened a little bit when he conversed with his little brother who looked just as smitten as he had done 160 years ago. Before this whole charade had started. Lovino felt cold fear cut through him to the core, and fled before he could be seen by not-Otto. Oh his brother was gonna get a fucking load of this. 


	3. Bad Blood

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Lovino had been lying in waiting for Feliciano all afternoon. Well, perhaps not very attentively the whole time. First he had pestered Roma a little bit. Just some good fun, but it quickly bored him as the old man didn’t make it worth his while, even a little bit. Always so serious and grim. At least toward Lovino. But now he had his brother pressed up against the wall in a deadlock, his lower arm pressed against his throat. Not even nearly doing any harm that could kill him, but it sure took him by surprise. Feliciano shrugged him off. He furrowed his brows at him in confusion. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Your loverboy,” Lovino spat, arms raised in frustration. Wasn’t it obvious? “He’s a dead ringer for Otto.”

Something in Feliciano’s eyes shifted and Lovino saw that he knew  _ exactly  _ what he was talking about. He didn’t even try to deny it or talk around it. He just shifted a little, guarding himself with his arms raised slightly, refusing to meet Lovino’s furious gaze directly. 

“They’re not the same person,” he tried. Lovino groaned loudly in frustration. “Trust me, I know.”

“Does it matter? He has the same face. Same fucking… dumb face.”

“I know, which is why I had to get to know him, to make sure. But they’re  _ not  _ the same. Not in any way. He’s human, for starters.”

“Perfect,” Lovino snarled, his lips curling in a malicious smirk. “Let’s kill him. Let’s kill him together. You need to get back on track.”

“No!” Feliciano yelled, panic tainting his otherwise flawless features. “No, Lovino, listen-”

“Imagine what his blood would taste like!” Lovino practically screamed at his brother, cutting him off and taking a tentative step toward him. “Do you remember the taste, brother? How long has it been since your last bender, 20 years? 30?”

“Lovino, please, stop,” Feliciano pleaded in a low, warning tone, edging closer to the table behind him. Lovino was too busy being angry to notice. He took another step, pushing the boundaries, revealing his fangs to make a point, feeling his face contort uncomfortably. He could spot through the corner of his eye how horrifically monstrous his features had turned - eyes blood red, veins exposed and dark through his porcelain skin - and there was a certain comfort in it. This is what they were, after all. Monsters. 

“Stop what, Feli? I’m just being myself. A  _ vampire _ . One that you made me into. Remember? Or maybe your memory of that is just as selective as it is about Otto. Shall I remind you what I did to him?”

“No, you can’t hurt him!”

“Oh I can’t?” Lovino stepped forward once more, a final step bringing him close enough to wring his brother’s neck in one swift movement, had he wanted to. His voice was a low growl. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. You’d do well to remember that.”

A sudden sharp pain shot through his chest as the dagger was plunged in through his lower ribs. He gasped for air as it punctured his lung, feeling the tip of the blade miss his heart by a couple of centimeters. Thank goodness that Feliciano was good at anatomy. And that he hadn’t been pierced by anything made of wood. Well, of course, he wouldn’t try to kill him anyways. But Lovino had pushed him over the edge, and couldn’t help but smirk at his brother when he staggered away from him. For just the slightest moment, Feliciano’s face too had taken on the same monstrous features that had just left Lovino’s. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled the dagger from his chest and regarded his brother with narrowed eyes. His wound healed up before the touch of steel had left him.

“This was one of my favourite shirts. Dick move.”

“Don’t touch Ludwig.”

“Whatever,” Lovino muttered, sauntering for the exit, swinging the dagger around in his hand as he turned on his heel and buried it into his brother’s shoulder. Feliciano gave off a strangled gasp for pain and sunk to the floor, louring at him as he tried to pull the weapon out. “Don’t stab me again, okay?”

.

_ June, 1848  _

The summer had barely begun, yet it was already balmy outside. The days that weren’t spent in good use were put aside for picnics, trips to the river, luncheons, or other boring social events. Sure, being born as boys meant the Vargas brothers didn’t quite have the same societal pressure to find a suitable mate for marriage, but their stern grandfather set the demands high enough anyways. Feliciano had recently passed 20, and Lovino was well nearing 25, and thus it was high time for them to find suitable wifes.

Lovino couldn’t care less, to be quite frank. And by the looks of it, neither could his brother. They were perfectly pleasant with the ladies, of course, and with some Lovino even enjoyed having a dance or a promenade. Especially Laura. She had lovely golden hair and a cute laugh. And she had a sense of humour similar to his. He often wondered back then if that was what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t entirely convinced. 

Feliciano, on the other hand, had begun to draw away from the social activities lately. An intriguing gentleman had arrived in town, and treated Feliciano much like his little prodigy, going out to practice shooting and fencing with him every so often, which made Lovino’s heart sting of jealousy. Of course, he couldn’t shoot or fence well to save his life, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t like that this stranger just got to come in and do it for him. He didn’t like the stranger much either. 

Otto was his name, and he was some lord from Bavaria or something. The ladies had all swarmed around him, of course. Lovino didn’t pay much attention to all that societal crap. All he noticed was the cold feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got whenever Otto entered the room. Whenever he fixed his icy blue eyes on him, something didn’t feel quite right, and it made Lovino uneasy as hell. He wished Feliciano had felt the same way.

Instead, Feliciano had swooned over him since day one, convinced Otto could do no wrong, and constantly tried to get Lovino to accept him. Their grandfather of course was just honoured that a man of such standing would take an interest in his grandson, and probably believed it would make Feliciano a better candidate for marriage one day. He’d always been a bit aloof when it came to those things. 

And oh how wrong grandpapa Roma would be. 

There was in fact a lot more than met the eye when it came to Otto and Feliciano. Honestly, Feliciano could have chosen any man to fool around with and Lovino would have turned a blind eye, but this man? This man was dangerous, and it seemed only Lovino saw it before it was too late. 

If only it had helped. 

“That’s a peculiar ring you’ve got there,” Feliciano pointed out curiously, studying Otto’s hand that looked abnormally pale in the bright summer sun. It was a garish piece of jewelry, a base of bright blue lapis lazuli, with white trimmings snaking into a curious crest in silver. It was large and clunky, and yet Otto was never seen without it. Lovino regarded it too with an inexplicable feeling of dread, having forgotten that he should maybe go ask another lady for a walk along the riverbank. 

Otto’s lips curled in a curious smirk as he held up his hand and turned the ring onto his finger, adjusting it ever so slightly. “Ah, yes. It’s a family heirloom. A bit… old-fashioned for my taste perhaps. But, one has to honour their history, correct?”

“Of course,” Feliciano agreed, as if spellbound. His eyes never seemed to leave Otto when he was in the room. Lovino wasn’t impressed. He stiffened when Otto turned his eyes to Lovino, fixing him with his icy gaze. 

“Your brother and I will have to leave this luncheon early today. That’s alright with you, yes?”

_ Absolutely not _ , Lovino thought, but somehow found himself unable to speak the words. It was as if his tongue was stuck, and all he could manage was an involuntary nod. Otto gave a satisfactory smirk and continued, not once letting go of Lovino’s gaze.

“You won’t remember this conversation. If anybody asks for us, you don’t know where we went. Alright?”

Another involuntary nod. Lovino felt confused and infuriated at the same time. Otto pulled away from him, disappearing off with his brother, and Lovino was left with a feeling of dread without really knowing why.

.

_ Present day _

Well, the tables had certainly turned. Lovino usually ran out of things to mess up for Feliciano or just got bored of taunting him, but the fact that he was dating the literal doppelgänger of their tormentor was just too good to be true. A human, no less. He’d be able to get a lot of fun out of this. Feliciano should know better than to get involved with humans. 

Truly, he should know better too than to get involved with humans. But whatever. It’s not like anybody knew. And he wasn’t involved. Not really. 

Lovino went to the Grill that evening. No, he wasn’t hoping for anything other than a nice drink to quench the loneliness and bitterness, but he couldn’t stop his dead heart from skipping a beat when he walked in and saw that Antonio was working. Shit. He hated how he made him feel. He may have watched him lately, but being in the same room as him was just electric. He took a seat at the far end of the bar and waited to be served. It was a slow Friday afternoon, with no weekend action having kicked in yet, and so it didn’t take long for the greeneyed bartender to make his way over to him. 

“Hey again,” he greeted him, pouring him his drink without having to ask. Lovino couldn’t help the ghost of a smile to grace his lips. 

“Hey there.” 

“So what have you been up to since I last saw you? Have you checked out the town much?”

“Nah, mostly just kept track of my little brother,” Lovino replied, quite truthfully. “Quite the little rascal, that one.”

“Oof,” Antonio gave him a crooked smile out of sympathy. “Sorry to hear that.” 

“Nah,” Lovino shrugged. “He just never seems to know what’s good for him. Keeps getting himself into trouble.”

“I have a friend who is like that,” Antonio replied, and Lovino beckoned him to continue. Anything to take his mind off of Feliciano and not-Otto. And he liked listening to Antonio speak. There was something harmonious about his voice. “He is hopeless, really. A bit of a daredevil, but very lovable, so you eventually forgive him. I can’t tell you how many times he’s gotten us into trouble throughout the years. No serious stuff, of course, and this is a small town so… nobody really cares. But I always have a good time with him, that’s for sure. He’s one of my oldest friends.”

Lovino sat quiet and regarded Antonio with fascination as he reminisced about his friend. Something about how the late afternoon light fell onto his chestnut hair, highlighting streaks of gold, drew him in, and he felt transfixed. A very small, and very annoying, part of him thought that maybe if this is what Feliciano had felt when he looked at Otto, then maybe Lovino could understand how he had sacrificed all but everything for him. Even his humanity. He drowned out the thought. It was different. He mustn’t question himself for ridding his brother, and the world, of the evil that was Otto. He wanted better for his brother, even if it had backfired entirely for him. Antonio was a different matter. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Couldn’t, even. He was just a human. Oh so terribly human. Too fragile. Too unreliable. 

“Hey, what are your plans this weekend?” 

Antonio’s voice pulled Lovino out of his thoughts, and he was back in the present. “I have none. Why?”

Antonio smiled, and Lovino could sense the blood rushing to his face to create a delectable blush. It would’ve been impossible to spot in this lighting for a human, but Lovino had no problem spotting it, and almost felt one of his own coming on. “I was thinking, since you’re new in town, I could show you around.”

_ Probably should be the other way around _ , Lovino thought to himself, but smiled back, a carefree smile with a promise of a good time. “Sure, why not. You’re off work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have one of those rare Saturdays off,” Antonio laughed. 

Lovino couldn’t help his thought spilling out. “And you want to waste it on me?”

“Time spent having fun is never time wasted,” Antonio shrugged, and now Lovino  _ definitely  _ felt a blush creeping up into his face. Damn it. Out of all the human functions that had remained after death, why did this have to be one? Antonio exchanged a couple of words with a colleague who rushed past, and then got Lovino’s attention again. “Sorry, I have to help wait tables tonight. See you here tomorrow, though? Noon?”

Lovino nodded, unable to keep a smile off his face. He finished the rest of his drink and left a hefty tip on the counter before heading towards the exit. For the first time in years he felt excited to do something that wasn’t either tormenting his brother, or trying to survive his dreadful existence. The objective of his journey here had almost slipped his mind entirely, and for a moment he felt just like a person. A normal person, leaving the pub, excited to go out with a new friend tomorrow. 

The stark smell of blood quickly drew him back into reality, and his senses heightened instantly. He had barely exited the Grill before it hit him, and he followed it behind the building. The sheer amount of it that hung fresh in the cooling night air was enough for him to feel a deep hunger growl at him from within, and he tried to push past his primal instincts in order to figure out what the hell had happened. He almost wished he hadn’t looked.

Among the dumpsters at the back entrance of the Grill lay two bodies, eviscerated and badly maimed. Drained of blood. A young couple that had gone back here to make out or something, by the looks of it. He felt a little bad for them, an unfamiliar feeling he wasn’t sure he liked. It was just not fair. These teens would’ve been harmless. And completely defenseless. 

What really caught his attention, however, was the text that was smeared onto the brick wall above them. Thick, dark red letters tainted the masonry, dripping down onto the concrete below. A surge of fear unlike anything Lovino had felt for the past 160 years gripped him.

_ Honour your history _ . 

Fuck. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. Lovino had made sure of that all those years ago. But had he? Could he be certain? Should he have gone back to burn the body after all? Should he have double checked? He had been so sure of himself, it was done. It wasn’t possible, yet here the proof was, undeniable in blood red letters.

Otto wasn’t dead. 


	4. Out for blood

Lovino didn’t sleep at all that night. Sure, he didn’t suffer the same effects of a sleepless night as a human would, but he nevertheless felt it. His brain felt sluggish, like a computer in need of a restart to function properly. The adrenaline of last night’s scare still kept him going, and he had been up all night trying to figure out the following: why was Otto here, what are his goals with this unwanted visit? Where is he hiding out right as of this moment? And of course, most importantly, how the hell was he alive?

It just didn’t seem possible. It couldn’t be. Because Lovino was absolutely certain he had killed him. He must’ve. He had chopped his goddamn head off, after all. Sure, it wasn’t as straightforward as staking him in the heart of even setting him on fire, but you’d think that nobody could heal themselves enough to reattach their head to their nervous system? Every day Lovino cursed himself for not having known an easier way of killing Otto back then, but then again, he never imagined he’d have the chance at a second try. 

Another point of debate for him was whether or not he should be telling Feliciano about this or not. While he supposed that somewhere, deep down, Feliciano did care about him (after all, that was part of how Lovino had gotten roped into this whole mess to begin with), he also wasn’t sure that Feliciano would react in a favourable way to the return of Otto. Favourable to Lovino, that is. And to himself. That boy had no instinct for self-preservation. Otto might not be able to compel his brother anymore now that he was also a vampire, but Lovino still feared that that almost hypnotic effect that he seemed to have on Feli with or without compulsion would be cause for major troubles. So in the end, he decided he’d tell him nothing. Roma, however, could maybe be of use.

“Hey, Roma, do you still have that stash of vervain tucked away somewhere around here?” he asked nonchalantly as he strolled into the kitchen, snatching an apple for himself more to have something to fiddle with than to soothe a need for a snack. Roma went pale and stiff, and struggled to reply.

“You… you-, you know about that?”

“Of course I know about that,” Lovino countered, raising an eyebrow in annoyance. He took a bite out of the apple and spoke his next sentence while chewing. “So, do you have it? Or was that all talk to try to intimidate me into leaving you alone?”

“You…” Roma was still stunned and shocked but managed to stutter out the words. “You- you were never supposed to know! H-How do you know about that?”

Lovino rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d managed to reduce the usually bravely dumb Roma to a stuttering fool, just when he needed him the most. He banged his fist on the counter, earning him a gasp from Roma as a thin crack formed in the wood, and he set his gaze on his great-nephew with a stern and uncharacteristically serious demeanour. “Look here, I know far more than you think I do, but that isn’t of importance. What’s important is Feliciano is in danger, and I need you to man the fuck up and supply me with vervain so I could kill the bastard once and for all.”

He didn’t think it necessary to mention that his own life was probably in more peril than Feliciano’s. Roma never much liked him anyways.

At least his speech had finally made the usual bravery and tough resolve return to Roma’s features, though he looked slightly more suspicious than he usually did, which wasn’t a little considering the amounts of times Lovino had pushed the boundaries of his visits over the years. “I’ll supply you. But I won’t tell you where I hide it.”

“Fine, whatever. I need it immediately.”

“You’ll get it next week.”

“ _ Immediately _ .”

“The soonest I can do is three days.”

Lovino was losing patience, trying hard not to fling Roma through a wall. “What, did you Fed-Ex it to Italy or something?

“It’s not in the house, obviously,” Roma jeered, gaining back his dumb bravery step by step. “You either wait or you go at it on your own.”

“Some fucking help you are.”

“Whatever trouble you’re in, it’s your own doing. Be grateful I’m even helping at all.”

Lovino narrowed his eyes at the old man, considering for a second how bad it would actually be to just drain him of blood and be rid of him. He decided against it today. “Oh, trust me, I’m speechless with gratitude.”

Fuck. New plan. He left through the front door before Roma could respond to him, leaving only the apple behind on the crack in the counter with one piece missing from it. He never much cared for apples.

.

The rest of the weekend came and went without issue, and by Monday morning Lovino was starting to get really suspicious. He knew Otto played the long game, but he had kind of expected something more to happen by now. He had been on edge for days, and was starting to wear out a little. There was still no sign of Roma’s secret vervain hideout resurfacing anytime soon, and Lovino was beginning to think he actually didn’t have any and maybe just drove around aimlessly, hoping for a garden somewhere within a three days’ drive that would have some that he could loot. He had to admit, the thought of Roma driving around in a panic, peeping into people’s gardens and across fields for the precious herb was kind of amusing him. 

He decided to go to the high school. That’s where Feliciano would be, and that’s probably where Otto would be stalking. If he was in any way predictable, which was questionable. The yard was swarming with kids, since it was a morning break and the sun was out, so Lovino decided to wait in his car for the opportune moment to do his reconnaissance of the area. He could spot Feliciano’s auburn hair glinting in the sun a bit away, and he was thankfully alone and not with that idiot that looked like Otto. Feliciano couldn’t see him, and Lovino took the opportunity to allow himself to feel bad for his brother. There he was, over 150 years old, sitting alone at a high school, waiting for his human boyfriend to keep him company. Of course, if he truly wanted to blend, this was what he had to do. Lovino supposed he was grateful that he had been a little older when he was turned and thus had a harder time posing as a high school-aged boy. And after all, Lovino was also over 150 years old and sitting alone at a high school. Who was the most pathetic out of the two of them? The one who lived out his dreams or the one who pretended he didn’t have them?

A sudden knock on the care window drew him out of his thoughts, and he jumped in his seat, senses all on alert, prepared for the worst. Instead, he was met with the familiar warmth of the town bartender. He relaxed at his smile, and stepped out of the car to greet him. 

“Hey you, why are you creeping around the school for?” he asked, trying to relieve himself of the tension that still hung around from just having been prepared to fight his worst enemy. Antonio chuckled at him and crossed his arms over his chest. Damn, his muscles were well-defined under that t-shirt. 

“I could ask you the same.” 

“Well, I’m checking in on my brother,” Lovino replied. It wasn’t a lie, really. “What’s your excuse? Got any charming, yet illegitimate kids running around here?”

Antonio laughed again, and Lovino felt his breath kind of taken out of him as he watched him. “God no, thank heavens for that. No, I’m dropping off a friend for his first day of work. He’s the new history teacher. I have the morning off.”

“Oh how convenient,” Lovino replied, when suddenly realization dawned upon him. He couldn’t help but make a face at how stupid he felt as he cursed inwardly. “Shit. I’m sorry, by the way. About Saturday. Uhm… something came up. Family stuff.”

Family stuff? How lame. If only it wasn’t true. 

If Antonio had been angry or disappointed with him, however, he gave no notice of it. He shrugged and just gave him another one of his breathtaking smiles. “That’s alright. Seeing you here today, I kind of figured something was going on anyways. Is your brother okay?”

“Sure he’s just…” Lovino scrambled for an adequate excuse. “An old friend of his showed up, and it has stirred a lot of emotions.”

Ugh. Lame. 

But Antonio bought it. “I see,” he said, with an understanding glint in his emerald eyes. “I hope things work out for him.”

“Thanks.”

“I uhm…” Antonio started, hesitating. Lovino chewed on his lip in anticipation of what he’d say next. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

Lovino returned the smile that Antonio gave him despite feeling his heart sinking. Great. Not that he had much of a chance with the hot bartender anyways, and he wasn’t even sure what he had wanted it to turn into, but he knew damn sure none of it was going to happen now. He’d been around the world and back many times, but he’d recognise the universal “you missed your shot, and I think we’re better off as friends” anywhere. 

After they’d said their goodbyes he strolled into the school. Classes seemed to have started, so the hallways were deserted for the time being. His footsteps echoed a little off of the rows of metal lockers, and a sense of dread crept up on him. His conversation with Antonio had almost made him forget why he was here in the first place, but now it hit him clearer than a brick in the face. Find Otto. Or, look for clues that Otto was in fact back. Because, come to think of it, he had yet to actually  _ see  _ Otto alive with his own eyes. He was dead certain that the message written in blood at the back of the Grill was meant as a reference to him, but how could he be certain that it was actually Otto who had written in? A chilling thought ran through his head as he remembered Ludwig’s likeness to Otto, and how easy it would be for them to switch places. One snap of the neck, and Otto would be able to scheme his way into Feliciano’s life again. Lovino felt sick. 

An empty classroom with the door open appeared before him, and he took a left turn to check it out. He wasn’t sure it would lead him anywhere, but it sure beat walking along empty, eerie corridors. The classroom was much like you’d expect any high school classroom. The historical maps covering the far end wall hinted that this was where the history lessons took place, and Lovino decided to snoop a little to find out more about Antonio’s friend. Sure, it wasn't a priority, but what the hell. 

Clearly, he had already had time for one class, as his name was scrawled onto the blackboard in a pointed, messy handwriting.  _ Gilbert Beilschmidt _ . Not a name that rang any bells. He opened the top drawer in the desk and rifled through it for anything remotely interesting. Nothing but pens, erasers, post-it notes and other stationary junk greeted him. He tried the bottom drawer. Locked. Bummer. He locked around for anyone who might hear him, and then took a sturdier grip on the drawer handle. There was a loud crack of wood breaking and metal bending as he opened the drawer by force, but he hardly noticed when he caught sight of the contents of the drawer. He couldn’t help but gasp in sheer surprise at the impression.

The drawer was filled to the brim with sharp wooden stakes, vials of what looked like concentrated vervain, bundles of dried vervain, and various other weapons to be used specifically against vampires. He was so engrossed in the contents of the box that he hardly heard when someone entered the classroom. 

“ _ You _ ,” a voice hissed at him, and his head snapped up just in time to face the silver-haired man heading for him with the agility of a fucking cat, stake in hand, a syringe of some sort in the other. 

“What the  _ fuck _ -” Lovino blurted out before the man had jumped him. They rolled around on the floor as he struggled to get loose, dodging the syringe which up close looked like it was filled with concentrated vervain. Weirdly enough, the man didn’t try to stab him with the stake, but merely seemed to keep it there as some sort of backup if the syringe wouldn’t work. Lovino was absolutely fuming. Not only had he allowed himself to be distracted, and subsequently jumped, but by a  _ human _ ? He’d rather have had Otto tear him to shreds than go through this humiliation. And this human was exceptionally strong too, and since Lovino hadn’t fed in a couple of days it was quite difficult to get the upper hand on the man. Eventually, however, he got control, grabbing the man by his throat and pulling him up off of his feet, pushing him against the blackboard with a little more force than necessary. A dust of chalk rushed down toward the floor from the board.

“Who the hell are you? What do you want? Answer me quickly and I might give you a quick and easy death.”

The wheezing sound escaping the man’s lips told Lovino he should probably let him down before he could respond, and he begrudgingly did so. With a glare that could kill, the man brushed his hair out of his face while panting to regain normal breathing, supporting his weight against the desk. His weapons had dropped from his hands in the struggle and were somewhere on the floor, out of reach.

“I asked you a question,” Lovino growled, taking a step closer. “Don’t make me ask again.”

The man held up his hand as if to ask him to hold off, and Lovino noticed a garish ring decorating his hand. It looked a little like his own, but with a black stone instead of a blue. Hm, weird. This guy was so clearly human. Very strong, and armed to the teeth with anti-vampire weapons, but still, human. He supposed he’d met a modern day Van Helsing with a terrible taste in jewelry.

“I’m Gilbert Beilschmidt,” the man finally panted. Lovino groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“The new history teacher? Come on.”

“Since I know you’re not a concerned parent, what are  _ you  _ doing here?” Gilbert muttered, a sarcastic smile curling his lips. Lovino looked at him incredulously. 

“Seriously? I asked you first.” He looked him up and down, from his combat boots to his shabby overcoat. He might’ve been strong and taken Lovino by surprise, but he didn’t look very impressive now.

He seemed to think he was more intimidating than he was, however, as he spat, “I’m here to kill you, you monster.” 

Lovino couldn’t help but snort at the very idea, despite their recent struggle being very fresh in his mind. “Oh please. Kill me? Despite your undoubtedly impressive menagerie of weapons,” Lovino gestured for the still open desk drawer. “You’re a _history_ _teacher_ , who can’t even drive. Do you really think you can kill me?”

“Well it doesn’t hurt to try,” Gilbert replied, and before Lovino knew it, the history teacher was over him again, and this time he didn’t miss. Lovino had somehow missed that he had another syringe in his back pocket, and now it was buried into his neck. Clawing at Gilbert’s shabby overcoat as he felt the strength in his muscles fade, Lovino spat out all curse words he could think of, struggling in vain to get the upper hand. It was too late. The vervain entered his system like fire tingling through his veins, rendering him useless in battle and unable to scream out the pain that it caused him. In his silent hell he felt himself being thrown over Gilbert’s shoulder and carried out of the school. It was all a blur, and he faded in and out, not remembering how and when he suddenly came to find himself strapped to a chair in a darkened living room. The rope was clearly soaked in vervain, for it burned into his skin as he tried to wriggle out of it. His low grunts alerted his captor that he was awake, and Gilbert showed up in the doorway, armed with a stake and another syringe. 

Goddamn history teacher. He’d been bested by a goddamn  _ history teacher _ . 

“What the hell do you want, teach?” Lovino muttered, fixing his eyes onto Gilbert, who had come to sit opposite him on a chair. 

“I want you to pay for what you did to my wife.”


End file.
